Gloves
by azurezury
Summary: Someone has stolen Iroh's gloves. Glove fetish.


His gloves were missing.

Iroh scowled as he shifted papers and objects on his desk. Where had he put them? He thought they were still on the desk, but as he cleared the scattered junk off, he couldn't find any trace of them. His hands went to his hips, fingers tapping as he went through his last steps. He already checked his bedroom and the bathroom. No one reported them being seen in the dining room. He hadn't gone up on deck yet, so he knew there was no way they were up there or tossed overboard.

He let out a puff of air as he headed out of his office to start the search over again. The halls were silent as everyone was already up and out for the morning, getting started on the day's tasks. Most of the doors were open. Except for one, he thought idly as he passed by. The creak of leather sliding against leather made him stop mid step and back up a few paces. His ears strained and he heard the sound again. He knew that only two things could make that sound-his gloves rubbing together. He turned his body and slowly crept up the door that was partially opened. He peered around and his eyes widened at the sight. There sat Bolin, halfway dressed, rubbing his gloves together. From the look on his face, one would almost think he was receiving the best hand job in his life. One of Iroh's perfectly manicured brows quirked as Bolin let out a shuddering breath and slowly put the gloves down. Iroh ducked away from the doorway, composing himself. The image of Bolin sitting there, cheeks flushed and chest heaving, kept hitting his mind's eye. He noticed an uncomfortable feeling start up in his pants. He never thought of his gloves arousing, but evidently Bolin seemed to think so. He started back down the hallway, hands tucked innocently behind his back, a smirk curled up on his face as an idea began to formulate.

—

"Oh shit, where did I put them?" Bolin was having a major freak out. He should have already returned Iroh's gloves by now. Iroh had managed to find some replacement gloves so he thought he managed to get away from it, but evidently Iroh was wanting his original gloves. He asked everyone throughout the day if they had seen them, but no one had seen hide or hair of them. When he questioned Bolin, it took all Bolin could not to stutter as he lied about not knowing their wearabouts. Iroh's fiery gaze pierced into him and Bolin was sure that the jig was up. But Iroh just smiled a wicked smile and turned away.

"Argh!" Bolin cried out as he flung the covers and pillows from his bed. He was completely absorbed in his task that he didn't hear the door shutting, or the gentle tap tap tap of boots as they made their way across the floor.

"Looking for something?" Iroh's voice caused his hair to prickle along his neck. Bolin whipped around and unfortunately, got his feet knotted up in the discarded covers. He fell back on the bed with an 'oof!'. Iroh approached him calmly. "Uh um." Bolin stuttered, trying to come up with some sort of lie. He never was any good at lying on the spot. "I asked if you were looking for something." Iroh repeated calmly. "Yeah, I was looking for some..uh…" Bolin hastily looked around. "These?" Bolin's head slowly turned as Iroh held up his hands, the gloves he stole earlier gracing them.

"I-I…"

A finger pushed against his lips, effectively silencing him. "Shush." Iroh whispered, leaning down. "I saw you this morning, rubbing them together. Do you like my gloves Bolin?" A leather hand caressed his cheek and Bolin felt his face grow hot. "Y-yes." Came the tiny answer. Iroh's smile widened. "Why do you like them so? Is it the smell?" A finger stroked along the tip of his nose. "Or is it the feel?" That leather clad hand was working down, gently tugging at his collar and loosening it before slipping inside. Bolin squeaked as the leather rubbed against his chest, his eyes squeezing shut as a finger circled his nipple. "I'm waiting." Iroh's lips were now against his chin, tongue flicking out to gently lick the corner of his mouth.

"It makes me think of you," Bolin breathed. Now both of Iroh's hands were working at his shirt, his movements quick but accurate. Bolin leaned back on his hands as the top was pushed from his shoulders. Iroh ran his gloved hands along his arms, silently appreciating the pure muscle. His hands skimmed across the white muscle shirt, going down to the hem so he could push it up, his lips finally claimed Bolin's as he did this. He could feel the hesitation and nervousness coming from the other and Iroh made sure his kiss was gentle and encouraging. Go too fast and he might break the boy, he thought with a chuckle.

The white shirt came off easily enough, though they had to part so he could pull it fully over his head. Iroh stood back and just drank in the sight. His eyes drifted down and he noticed a small line of hair that trailed downwards. A gloved hand reached out, stroking along that line. Bolin's hips bucked and Iroh saw the growing bulge beneath the pants he wore. Bolin watched with hooded eyes as Iroh sank to his knees. A hot blush coated his entire body as the general's fingers began to work at his fly.

"General Iroh, what are you-"

"Hush," Gold eyes darted up, effectively silencing him. "Just lay back and enjoy."

Bolin groaned at the sensual words and his head fell back. There was the faint /ziiiiip/ and the cool air made bumps rush up along his skin. "Magnificent." He heard Iroh's voice, coated in awe and lust. At the first touch of the leather against his straining flesh, Bolin let out a cry. Iroh hesitated. Had he hurt him? Bolin simply looked at him, desire in his eyes. Not pain. Iroh took that as a signal that he was doing good. He wrapped his hand around, thumb coming up to slowly rub the head, spreading the little bit of liquid that had started to seep from the tip. Bolin's hips rotated of their own accord and Iroh used one hand to still him.

"Oooh spirits," Bolin cursed as that leather hand began to pump him, slickened from his own cum. Iroh's breath was hot against him and he faintly hoped that Iroh would use that mouth of his. Bolin got his wish a few seconds later when his tongue lapped out, tasting him. His hand twisted, making him tremble. He forced his eyes to look at Iroh. The sight of the general, fully dressed and kneeling before him, was sinfully delicious. Iroh smirked up at him as his tongue swirled along his head, that leather hand never missing a beat.

"I can't…" Bolin tried to convey his message across, but he was at a loss of words.

"That's all right." Iroh tilted his head, fluttering kisses against his skin. His thumb came up again, stroking firmly now. "I'm going to…" Bolin bit out, the words dying on his lips as Iroh's palm cupped his head and gave a good squeeze. His hips jerked and he felt his seed shoot out as pleasure raced up his spine and back down again, making his head spin. He flopped onto his back as he felt himself soften in Iroh's palm. The general gave him a few soothing strokes, coating him in his own mess. He let out a gasp as his tongue swiped along his shaft before Iroh rose up. He was licking his lips as he tugged his gloves off. The leather made a squishing sound as he rubbed them together in the process.

Iroh tossed them onto Bolin's chest, a smirk on his face. "Keep these safe, will you? I need to go to a meeting but I'll be back afterwards to retrieve them." The tone of his voice made Bolin think that he was going to do more than just come back for his gloves. He nodded mutely, biting down hard on his cheek as Iroh licked a little bit of white liquid from his lips. He smacked them in an exaggerated manner, making Bolin blushed again. Iroh gave a gentle laugh. "You're so cute when you do that." That only made Bolin blush again and he hid his face in his hands until Iroh left.

When he was sure he was gone, Bolin lifted the gloves up and stared at them. A grin broke out onto his face and he held them close. He couldn't freaking wait.


End file.
